One Step Closer to the Edge
by Fandom Faery
Summary: Sherlock's come back but Molly is slowly breaking. She decides to end it. What will Sherlock do when she's gone? Rated T for suicide. If it should be M please tell me.
1. Chapter 1

**I got bored and read some fanfics and decided to come up with one of my own. I promise this isn't something I read but if someone else has made something like this let me know. I don't want to copy someone.**

 **Disclaimer I do not own anything here!**

Molly was too tired. Too done with everything. After Sherlock had come back to life she'd been ignored. Even though she'd helped him stay alive he ignored her. She was sick of it. Now Molly was done. Molly decided it was time to go.

Of course it wasn't just him. It was also the fact that everyone she seemed to get close to was dying or evil. Her old boyfriend was a serial killer. Her dad had died. Her mom didn't seem to talk to her anymore. Anyone else she had ever loved had seemingly gone away for one reason or another.

She rolled back her sleeve and saw all of the previous scars from the past cuts she had made. She traced a couple of them sighing. "This is the end." she said quietly. She took out the blade she had used so many times before. She cleaned it one last time. She'd been planning this for a while actually. She had written a long note to everyone. To Greg, John, and Sherlock.

Molly smiled sadly. Then she heard the phone ring. It was Sherlock.

"Hello Molly." he said.

"Hello. What do you want know this isn't a good time!"

"Oh I was wondering if I could get some samples from the lab."

Molly sighed a bit. She knew that she wouldn't ever go back there again. Hoping that she didn't show any signs during the whole conversation she muttered quietly. "I don't know. I'm not going to be there in a while. Maybe later."

That set warning alarms in Sherlock's head. She never refused and she rarely ever took a vacation.

Molly hung up on the phone. She went back to her job. Molly took the blade in her hand and started to slit her own throat. All the voices in her head were going off at once. _You deserve to die. Nobody would ever love you. Why don't you just do us all a favor and kill yourself?_ "Shut up!" she screamed. She was sobbing helplessly. She heard Sherlock banging on her door. _It's not supposed to happen like this._ She thought to herself. He broke down the door.

Molly stabbed herself in the stomach in that very instant.

She vaguely heard Sherlock screaming at her in the background. He tried to stop the bleeding. "Why did you have to do this Molly?" he asked quietly.

She wanted to speak. She wanted to comfort him but she could hardly even speak. Molly managed to say final words. "I'm sorry." she choked out.

She died a minute after. An ambulance came later but there was nothing that could be done.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hope you liked the last chapter. Fast update and I think this will be my last chapter unless anyone wants another. R &R please**

 **Thanks for the reviews. I'll take some requests (Must be Doctor Who, Sherlock, Defiance, Falling Skies, and/or Maximum Ride related.)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters in this. All I own is the idea of this situation.** (I think)

It was obvious to everyone that Sherlock was feeling the effects. It was worse then what had happened when Irene Adler had left. He still did his cases and attended normal events. But there was an obvious difference with him now. Whenever someone asked him what was wrong he went off to saying. "Sentiment." Then he'd go back to a case or doing whatever he was doing.

Occasionally he played the violin to lift his spirits. But most of the time he used other habits to make himself feel better.

He, like Molly. Started to cut. First it was an experiment, he was bored and decided to see what interested Molly so much. Then it became an addiction. Whenever Sherlock felt hollow, was having trouble with a case, was insulted, was blaming himself for Molly's death, anything really. He would go on and cut himself.

He soon began to blame himself for ignoring Molly. He blamed himself for everything bad. He kept regretting ignoring her and paying more attention to John then he did to his lovely pathologist.

Soon cases became boring as well. Even the most interesting cases left him feeling horrible. Whenever some serial killer managed to get another victim he completely blamed himself. Some people didn't notice that he was slightly off. He, of course, did his best to hide it.

Sleeping was horrible too. He rarely did it nowadays. Whenever he did sleep he would always have horrible nightmares. Always they would involved Molly. Sherlock was often glad that John didn't live with him anymore since John would easily be able to hear Sherlock's screams.

Sherlock hadn't slept for about a week now. That streak ended when he nearly fell asleep at a crime scene. John had sent him home and made him go to bed. Sherlock reluctantly agreed to sleep for a little bit.

 _Sherlock ran into Molly's flat. He was in time now and she hadn't stabbed herself yet. Then she looked at him angrily. "This is your fault" she said in tears. "If you hadn't ignored me and been so horrible. This is all your fault." She stabbed herself and he ran to her_

Sherlock woke up screaming and crying. He ran towards a secret compartment and tried to find his blades. He went into his bathroom and rolled back his tears. He slowly cut into his skin. He instantly felt a little bit better. As if all of his troubles were flowing away in his blood.

Sherlock just couldn't take it anymore. All of the pain, all of the guilt, and all of the voices. It was killing Sherlock and he could tell. He had already made one attempt on his life. That was when he was an idiot and young. This time he would succeed.

Sherlock tried to make sure that John wouldn't come and check on him sending a text message that hopefully raised no alarms and made sure that he seemed okay. Sherlock laughed a little. Maybe this was how Molly had done it. That was when he took his knife. Hearing every single voice in his head screaming and they all seemed desperate to break free.

Sherlock took his knife in his hand. He decided he would stab himself in the stomach. He heard Molly's voice this time. _"So nice of you to come join me."_ He stabbed himself instantly. And with one last imagined word from Molly she seemingly took his life, because even in death she mattered.

 **Hope you all liked it! I'm rather new to this writing thing and my thoughts usually all seem dettached. Sorry if Sherlock is OOC but maybe depression does that to people.**


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